Dizzy
by rokothepas
Summary: What were the chances of meeting her in a bar? On a Sunday at midnight? Very good chances apparently. HouseCuddy friendship. No pairings as of yet.
1. Chapter 1

Dizzy

A/N: This is my first shot at House, M.D. fan fiction and the first piece of writing in a long time. I hope I did him justice and that the story's not too much of a cliché or out of character. I know the storyline's not exactly unique. Please tell me if you find any grammar or spelling mistakes, so I can correct them. And constructive criticism would help a lot. Thank you for reading.

Category: Drama/Humor

Rating: T

Spoilers: Post 2x6 _Spin_ and Cuddy's nightgown from _Humpty Dumpty_ makes a small but memorable appearance.

Summary: What were the chances of meeting her in a bar? On a Sunday at midnight? Very good chances apparently. House/Cuddy friendship. No pairings as of yet.

Disclaimer: Writing this is pointless. We all know I don't own anything related to House, M.D. Wishing doesn't account for owning. Oh, well.

---H.M.D---

"_So, how about you and me leave this joint, gorgeous? I got something in my car; you might be interested in seeing. "_

"_Uh, I don't think so, Don."_

Up until this point, one Gregory House was minding his own business; one could say a real rarity—and having an unsuccessful date with Jack, Daniels' that is.

He frowned. Why did that voice sound familiar? It almost sounds like—no it definitely sounds like Cuddy. No, it couldn't be. Miss Fun bags a.k.a. Party pants? No way!

What are the chances of meeting her in a bar; on a Sunday at midnight?

"_Oh, come on. You might like it."_

He turned his head in the direction of the voice.

Very good chances apparently.

There she was, talking to some guy, sporting a college jock look with blonde hair and a fake "I'm so pretty" smile. He kind of reminded him of Chase, but slightly taller, meaner and with greased hair, oh and without the _cute_ accent.

"_No, Don. Why don't you take me home. Okay?"_

"_Hey, you said you wanted to go somewhere."_

"_Well I didn't mean for you to take me to the sleaziest bar on Princeton!" _her voice raised a bit and when he didn't back down she continued, _"Fine! I'll call a cab."_

She turned to leave but Blondie had other plans and grabbed her hand.

"_Where are you going? We are not done here. Come on, I'll buy you a drink. It'll help you relax."_

House rolled his eyes. The guy was a real sleaze. Where the hell did she find him?

Intervention was in order. He slowly got up from his bar stool, wincing from the stiffness in his leg and limped towards them. He felt slightly dizzy but seventh shot of whiskey could do that to you. He also had a couple of Vicodin, but who was counting? It was a real wonder he could still walk after this. Whoops, limp that is.

"I said _no_! Let go of my hand!_" _

She was seething, angry as hell. She rescued her arm from his grip but then he grabbed the other one.

"Some guys just can't take no for an answer." House stood right in front of them leaning on his cane. They looked in his direction. "What's up with that?" He made a grimace

"_House,"_ she said in surprise but he detected relief in her voice.

"House?" Don asked confused.

"Yeah, that's my name. Lame, I know. Good thing my mom didn't marry a "Home", 'cause I'm not a homely kind of guy."

Don gave him a cold look. "Stay out of this, old man. This is none of your business."

"_Really?_ I think it is since you're messing with my girl_ friend_." He deliberately stressed the friend part.

The guy a.k.a. Don, looked from House to Cuddy in confusion.

"You never mentioned a boyfriend?" Cuddy was still stunned that she stayed silent.

"You know I think she's embarrassed of me." Don looked back at him. "Aren't you muffin?" House gave her a pointed look.

For the first time in her life, Lisa Cuddy was speechless. She frowned in confusion.

"Oh, I think we're gonna need to have a little talk, missy." He said in a sing-song voice. "This is the third time."

The guy released her other arm and she straightened, moving away from him.

"Wait a minute! You lied to me?" Don asked her, his calm appearance pretty much gone to hell. He was throwing daggers with his eyes.

"I—" She started.

"Oh, what am I doing" House continued in an uncharacteristically soft voice, "I could never stay mad at you, muffin. Besides what would little Timmy do if you weren't there to change his water. You know that he doesn't like me. Almost bit of my finger the other day. Nasty little sucker. "

And then he shocked her by gently taking her elbow. "Come on, _my 'bike's_ outside, he gave him a pointed look that said 'back off', "I'll take you home."

"I think I deserve an apology." Don moved closer to Cuddy and ignored House.

"Well that's weird, 'cause I think you don't." Cuddy looked like she was about to explode.

Uh-oh. House thought. He knew she could've kicked his ass on her own but his interference was much more fun. Besides he considered other peoples' business his business. And the best thing was he could rub it in later.

"You know, I think she's right." House straightened up on his cane, making him look slightly taller than the guy and more intimidating.

But Don wasn't backing down. He looked at House angrily. "Why don't you and your cane get the hell out of here before you end up like Stephen Hawking."

"Oh my _God_! You know Stephen? I've always wondered what happened to that guy. Last thing I heard was him being a human punch bag for his missus' but I never knew he was gay or desperate enough to have you as a partner." He said, sarcasm dripping with every word. "Tell me, are you the reason his wife's beating the crap out of him?"

That did it. House suddenly found himself, lying on the floor, his hand grabbing for his Vicodin. Although his face was hit, his leg hurt more.

"House!" Cuddy was quickly by his side, checking for any injuries. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He gritted out, after taking two pills.

She nodded and before he got a chance to register what was happening, Cuddy's fist connected with the guy's face, sending him to the floor.

Whoa! Didn't see that one coming. House thought slightly impressed.

"Fuck! You broke my nose, you bitch!" He stood up slowly, holding his nose, while the blood dripped on the floor.

"I'm _shocked_! Does the word 'healer' mean nothing to you?" House said to her at which she rolled her eyes.

"You better get lost or I'm calling the cops!" The bartender, who decided to let himself known, had shouted from the back.

"You heard the man! Get the hell out of here before I break something else." She glared at the guy.

The man looked at her and then at House who asked, "Hey you want me to check that out for you? I'm a doctor, you know. But then again, so is she." He nodded in her direction.

Don spat some blood on the floor, muttering some curse, no doubt and staggered off in a hurry.

"Was it something I said?" House asked with fake innocence.

"That means you too." The bartender spoke up again.

Cuddy nodded in understanding and held out his cane for him.

House stood up and said with a smirk. "_Gosh _you saved me, knight Cuddy! How can I ever repay you?" Then with another tone in his voice he added, "Just as long as it doesn't involve clinic duty."

"Oh, shut up, House. Let's get out of here."

She grabbed his elbow and guided him out of the bar.

"_Oh so rough_. I don't put out on a first date, you know." He said.

She rolled her eyes but decided to let that one pass for now. "Thank you." She gave him a pointed _I could've handled that_ look.

"What for? I think I should thank you. Picking a fight in a bar was never this much fun. You kicked ass. And nose." He smirked.

She smiled back. "Thanks. You were a good damsel in distress."

"Thank you. Boy, all this thanking has made my stomach rumble. What do you say, we get something to eat?"

"What? You and me?" Her eyebrows went up in surprise.

"Yeah. Unless you also meant Donny boy. Though I think that's kind of hard now, seeing as he's scared of you." He made a face. "Frankly I'm scared of you."

"You should be. Okay, I admit I'm a little hungry. How about burgers? My treat."

"Hey, you didn't really think I was going to pay, did you? I let him hit me, so you could have a go with him. I think that qualifies for a free meal. In return I'll show you a little trick I picked up along the way."

She rolled her eyes but relented. "It's a deal but no fooling around, House."

"I never fool around." He said somewhat tiredly.

She looked at him more closely. He obviously had a bit too much to drink and was probably doped up, since he was so forward with her. Well more than usual anyway.

She gave him a knowing look. "_Right_. Don't think I don't know what you did with that steak, House."

"Why that snitch. I knew he would talk. Just when you think you can trust somebody—"

"Oh shut up. Are you coming or what?"

He frowned. "Where are we going?"

"I'm up for some bagels."

"I thought you said you wanted burgers?" He asked confused.

"I changed my mind. Now hurry up, slowpoke." She called out, effectively leaving him standing outside the bar.

"Hey, that's rude!" He shouted back with mock offence.

"Well isn't that the pot calling the kettle black." She retorted.

"The pot is a real racist. How come nobody ever noticed that?" He made a face like he was contemplating just that.

She stopped and waited for him to catch up with her. She gave him a strange look.

"I'll admit you're a good doctor and a brilliant diagnostician, but most of the time you just make no sense."

"Why Cuddy, ma' buddy, do I detect a compliment in there somewhere?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No. It's just an observation." She looked around the parking lot. "Are you sure you're fit enough to drive that thing?" She motioned toward the motorcycle that was parked nearby.

"Fit as a fli-flidle, uh...fiddle." He frowned.

She narrowed her eyes at his wording. "I don't think so. Come on, we'll get a cab. You can pick up your bike tomorrow."

"Nuh-uh, I'm not leaving my baby out here, all alone." He limped over to the machine and patted the leather seat. He leaned in towards it and whispered, "Don't worry, daddy's not gonna leave you."

He raised his head and gave her a lost puppy look.

She sighed. "God, I must be crazy. Alright, let's go. But I swear to God if—"

"Don't be such a wuss. Nothing bad's gonna happen." He slung his leg across the seat and placed his cane in its compartment. He waived her over. "Hop on."

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" She thought. A second later the engine roared into life and they pulled out of the parking lot.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews but don't hesitate to add some constructive criticism. It would help a lot. Also I have corrected a few minor spelling mistakes in the first chapter. I just hate it when I miss those. I didn't intend to post this chapter so soon but since I'm down with flu; I thought I should go ahead while I can still see the monitor.

Category: Drama/Humor

Rating: T

Spoilers: Post 2x6 _Spin_ and _Cuddy's nightgown _from _Humpty Dumpty_ makes a small but memorable appearance.

Summary: What were the chances of meeting her in a bar? On a Sunday at midnight? Very good chances apparently. House/Cuddy friendship. No pairings as of yet.

Disclaimer: Writing this is pointless. We all know I don't own anything related to House, M.D. Wishing doesn't account for owning. Oh, well.

---H.M.D---

Chapter 2

The first thing that struck him was the throbbing pain in his thigh; the second was the splitting headache when he opened his eyes.

And the third was the fact that his bed didn't look like _his_ bed at all.

What the—? He scanned the room, through red-rimmed eyes and soon closed them do to nausea that overtook him.

Okay. There's a perfectly good explanation of why he was in somebody else's bedroom. And why was the bedroom so familiar?

He knew that last night, or this morning to be exact, involved a lot of socializing with his old pal Jack. He vaguely remembered that dimly-lit bar and his thoughts of killing Wilson for standing him up. What a bad time for the man to grow a conscience about his wife.

And then it dawned on him. He was in fact here, in this same room a month ago, when he was investigating, okay invading Cuddy's home.

"Oh crap."

"You can say that again. My neck's killing me."

He slowly opened his eyes and saw Lisa Cuddy standing in the doorway and rubbing her neck.

"What—How?" He asked weakly and a bit uncomfortable, when he noticed that he was in fact wearing only his Pink Floyd t-shirt and boxers.

Where was a good sarcastic remark when you need one?

"Oh don't worry. I didn't take advantage of you." She smiled, still rubbing her neck.

"Then...how…"

_God_ he sounded like Wilson with his stuttering and dragging the words to eternity.

"What exactly do you remember?" She asked, moving slowly towards him.

He thought about it. "The bar, getting smashed and hit by a Mack truck with blonde hair and fake teeth." He rubbed his sore jaw.

"So you don't remember coming here and collapsing on my bed?"

"No. _Darn_ _it _and I was really looking forward to some nooky later."

"Well, you're gonna be disappointed because nothing happened. I tried to wake you but you were out cold. I only managed to remove your jeans and jacket."

"Disappointed much?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not really." She frowned, as if in thought. "No. There wouldn't be much of a difference anyway."

"_Damn woman_, you wound me." He placed his hand on his chest in a mocking gesture.

"Oh just get up before I really wound you like Don."

"Ouch." She glared at him.

"Okay. Don't get your panties in a bunch. Though I distinctly remember seeing them nicely folded and especially that pink tho—"

"If you want to leave unharmed, you will not finish that thought."

"Gee, it's a real wonder you don't have guests more often. You're a _real_ host. Don't expect another visit from me any time soon."

"Good. Now get up."

"But _mom_!" He mimicked a childlike voice.

She rolled her eyes. "You can be a real brat sometimes."

"I thought you liked them young and bratty. You mind telling me what you were doing with _Sport Billy_ over there?"

"It's Don. And it's none of your business."

He decided to ignore that fact, per usual. "Is he like one of those singer types? You know, _just_ Madonna, _just_ Cher, _just_ Sting. '_Just Don is my name, slime is my game'_."

She almost laughed at the last part, _almost_ being the key word here.

"No. He has a last name."

"Well what is it?" He pressed on, knowing that she was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. He loved it.

"What's with the third degree? And why aren't you getting dressed?" Just now she noticed that he barely moved from her bed.

"I'm curious. And _do you_ _mind_. I'm not one of those exhibitionist types." He glanced down at his jeans that were neatly folded on a nearby chair. And his leather jacket was placed on a hanger.

"Though I might be interested if by any chance, an offer comes my way." He raised his eyebrows at her pointedly.

She shook her head. "Oh, grow up." She started for the door and said, "I'll be in the kitchen making coffee. And by the way, for every minute you spend in my room I'll add another hour to your clinic duty schedule."

"I'm going, I'm going. What a pushover."

"I heard that!"

"Whoops!"

Exactly two minutes and some change later he showed up in the kitchen, dressed up but bare-foot.

"I couldn't find my socks or my Nike's. Oh no," he put a hand on his mouth in mock fear 'Macaulay Culkin style', "You don't think those nasty gnomes took them?"

She sighed in frustration. "I had to take off your shoes so you don't mess up my bed. They're in the hall with the other shoes and the socks are in them."

He raised an eyebrow. "Curious. So you undressed me but nothing happened?"

"For the last time, yes!"

"You sound frustrated. Must be all that great sex you missed out on." He winked at her.

"Oh for—"

"All this fuss about getting dressed and you're still looking like Granny Mayflower. What's with that nightgown anyway?"

Cuddy completely forgot to put on a bathrobe and House, being a man, couldn't help but stare.

She glanced down and noticed that he was in fact right, _damn him_, and she suddenly felt very exposed. Her cheeks turned crimson. She hugged her midriff but it was already too late for modesty. Good thing it wasn't see-through.

"Oh _please_ like I haven't seen _that _before." He covered his smirk with a red mug that looked suspiciously like the one he kept at the hospital. "I have never seen _that nightgown,_ though."

"Uh, I'll get dressed." She hurried out of the kitchen.

He looked at his watch. It was six thirty a.m. "Take your time!" He yelled after her, hoping to miss at least a couple of hours of clinic.

Ten minutes later, she was putting on her shoes and coat.

She grinned at him smugly. "Don't worry. You'll be right on time for clinic duty. Let's go."

His dream was squashed like an annoying fly on the car window.

"I'm surprised. I thought you were all high-maintenance. _Way to go_, ruining my good image of you."

"You know what? You're so full of it, House."

"This is just _great_!" He said sarcastically. "And what is happening with the world? Where did those women go; the needy and self-conscious ones who spend all their time and ours in the bathroom grooming?"

She turned to him, with a grin. "We saw through you." She said as she locked the door behind them.

He limped after her. "What the hell does that mean?" She was already down the sidewalk and hurried towards her car. "Damn women. Where's the manual when you need one?" he muttered.

"Slow down. Where's the hurry?" He asked as he finally caught up with her.

"Well for one I don't want to be late. Unlike some people." She stared at him pointedly.

"You're so predictable. Would it kill you to loosen up a little, just for once?" He cocked his head to the side, staring at her amused.

The glare she sent his way, answered the question.

"Okay, I'll shut up."

"First smart thing I heard from you all morning."

"Well, I guess I'll see you at the hospital." He started for his 'bike but then turned one last time with, "Before I go, would you finally tell me the guy's last name?"

"Why do you always have to know everything?"

He shrugged. "Because _I care_?"

She have him a _you've got to be kidding me_ look "Oh, alright. It's…" She mumbled the last part.

"What was that?"

She rose up her hands in frustration and sighed. "I don't know, alright?"

He raised his eyebrows. "You...don't...know?"

He was getting very good at imitating Wilson.

"Yes! Can I go now?"

"Interesting. But how—"he started but then it dawned on him.

He smirked smugly. "You met him online and it was a blind date. What's the agency called—_Date-a-Moron dot com_?" He guessed and when she didn't answer, he announced,

"You _did_, didn't you?"

He laughed. "Oh man, this is so good. Wilson is gonna love it."

She glared at him. "If you tell anyone, I'll make your life a living hell."

"As apposed to what, exactly?"

"I don't have time for this, House. Save the barb for later. By the way, you have additional two hours of clinic duty."

"_Why?" _He squealed.

"Because you spent two minutes longer in my room and I hold you responsible for my sore neck." She opened the car door and went in.

"Well it's not my fault I'm so unforgettably good that you had to restrain yourself from sleeping with me. You should know that bed always beats the couch."

"Goodbye, House." She retorted pointedly and closed the door in his face.

He cocked his head to the side and smirked. It is going to be a long day but at least he had new ammunition in store for Cuddy.

Oh, yes. That will come in real handy.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you for reviewing the last chapter. This chapter is a filler, I'm afraid. I just wanted to post something before the New Year. Also a bit of a warning—I haven't seen anything past _Spin_ yet so we'll go into the AU territory. As always don't hesitate to add a bit of constructive criticism. And I wish you all the best for Christmas and the upcoming New Year;-)

---H.M.D---

Chapter 3

"Okay! Differential diagnosis people!" House stormed into his office and dropped his rucksack on his desk, startling the other two occupants who appeared very bored and disinterested. Until now, that is.

"Jesus Christ!" Robert Chase grabbed his chest and almost fell off the chair, while Foreman just stared at House with a look he only reserved for his misanthropic boss. He obviously learned to take no crap from him anymore.

House was impressed with him, though he would _never _admit that.

He looked at his favorite victim with a smirk. "_My, my_ Dr. Chase. _Such words_! I thought with your upbringing and being an ex-almost-holly man; you knew of not saying the Lord's name in vain. I am _appalled_!"

He noticed out of the corner of his eye, that Foreman had trouble hiding the impending smile from his eyes.

Chase sat down slowly and straightened out his ugly shirt for the day. That day's choice was a poop-colored one, with tiny little orange flowers on them. The guy seriously needed a gay friend.

He cleared his throat. "Why did you have to do that? You almost gave me a heart attack." He breathed out nervously.

"_Damn_! My mission has failed. _Excuse me_, while I go hide in the corner and _cry_."

He leaned on his cane, making mocking faces at Chase, who rolled his eyes.

"Do we actually have a case or you just came here to annoy us?" Foreman asked; his face was impassive again.

"I seemed to recall this being my office or was that just my imagination?" He looked around in an innocent fashion. "There's Carmen Electra but I don't see pink unicorns anywhere. Good, otherwise I'd have a hard time keeping Cuddy away."

He continued in a hush-hush voice, "Did you know she had a pony when she was an itty-bitty girl? She keeps its pictures by the bed."

At Chase's confused look he added, "Sorry, Chase. It was _just _not meant to be." He wiped a fake tear from his eye and sniffled for additional effect.

"So do you have something for us?" Foreman asked impatiently.

"Ah Dr. Foreman, straight to the point. I like that. I don't like those sneakers though." He pointed with his cane at Foreman's very red Converses. "Doesn't match with that ugly pink tie."

Foreman narrowed his eyes at him. "Learn to accessorize, _man_."

"Dr. House?" He turned and saw Cuddy staring at him in all the seriousness.

"Well, if it isn't the ray of sunshine on an otherwise cloudy day." He quipped with a grin.

She sighed. "My office, now!"

He looked at his watch. "We only just got here and you already want me." He smirked.

"I knew you'd come around."

He turned to the other two men in the room. "Well, you know what they say; a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." He limped after her.

When they left, Chase frowned and said, "Hey Foreman, did you notice that purple bruise on House's jaw?"

"When it concerns House, I don't find anything surprising anymore."

"But Dr.Cuddy's hand is all bandaged up. You don't think those two got into a fight? Do you?"

"When it comes to those two, I try not to think at all." He retorted disinterestedly and continued to tap his fingers on the table, following some unrecognizable tune.

-

"So, why am I here besides for the obvious reason?"

House leaned on his cane as he observed her choice of clothing. The choice for the day was a pale green suit which consisted of a matching jacket and pants. They were in a hurry, okay_ she_ was in a hurry to get here, so he didn't even have time to notice what she was wearing.

"And what is the obvious reason?" She put her hands on her hips, staring at him in annoyance.

He knew she was going to ask that. He might be a pain in the ass but she was sometimes too curious for her own good. A characteristic they shared.

"You realized you were wrong and now you can't wait to jump me. Though I must say your office is a little risky. Anyone could walk in, you know? But what do _I_ know? Maybe you're actually into that. Are you?" He raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

"I am not going to dignify that with an answer." She went around her desk and took some files. She held them out to him.

"You see this?"

He cocked his head to the side, waiting for a good remark to come.

"This is your case load for today."

He was going to say something but she beat him to it. "And don't even think about skipping clinic or assigning somebody else. I'll be watching you."

"Every step I take and every move I make?" He asked amused, taunting her.

"Yes. Now get out!" Cuddy pointed at the door, like she was scolding a disobedient child.

When he stepped out she slammed it into his face.

"Whoa, definitely frustrated. Call me when you change your mind." He said loud enough for her to hear through the door and left satisfied that he managed to irk her again.

-

"Are you Dr. House?"

He didn't get very far away from Cuddy's office when he was stopped by a short, middle-aged man with beady eyes.

"_Who?"_

House made his usual sarcastic face and looked down at the name tag on his blue suit, which he apparently forgot to take down before coming in.

Ready, steady, go!

He looked up at the man, giving him a look of complete innocence.

"_Gosh_, I am _so sorry_. I seem to have taken the wrong name tag again. You must mean that _nice young blonde-haired man _with the funny accent."

"What?" The man stared at him in confusion.

House saw Dr. Chase coming his way and exclaimed, "Aha! There he is—the man of the hour!"

Chase stopped on his way to Radiology and gave him a questioning look.

The beady-eyed man looked from House to Chase in an even more confused manner.

"Doctor—" Chase started but was cut off by House who patted him on the back.

"Yes, we know you're _that doctor_. I just _can't _help feeling _so humble _in your _great_ presence."

Chase opened his mouth to respond but House's hand pushed him from behind.

"Oh don't be so modest. This man needs your help. Now go and treat!" He said and limped away, leaving two confused men at his wake.

-

"_New Jersey Herald_? Nope. Hmm..._Good Housekeeping_? No. Aha! Bingo!" House took the magazine and sat down on the extra chair in Cuddy's office.

Some would say that it's not very smart to sit in the office of a certain someone you're supposed to avoid. They would be right but since that someone wasn't in and should be back in approximately one hour; after sitting through a painfully boring meeting of the board of directors...it doesn't matter. The important thing was that he wasn't in the clinic. And butting heads with Cuddy was his favorite past-time.

He flipped through the magazine and smirked. He soon heard the noise coming from the outside but before he could register what was happening, the door opened and he came face to face with a pissed-off looking Dean of Medicine.

Here we go.

"_How do I get my superhairy guy to wax?_" He read from the magazine and then looked up. "Cuddy, ma' old buddy...pal...chum...Have you been holding out on me?"

"House! What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be in the clinic!"

He looked around in an innocent fashion. "What? You sent _the police_ after me?"

She placed her paperwork on her desk and pushed his legs from their resting place on her chair.

"Are you crazy? Not guilt-ridden enough? Want me to be in pain?" He responded when his legs hit the floor and landed in a painful position. He popped another dose of Vicodin.

"No I want you—"

"Well I _know_ you _want me_ but you didn't have to skip that meeting. And I'm _not_ into pain. You're in luck though, 'cause I heard that Chase is _totally _into that and he doesn't even have a girlfriend. _How perfect is that?_" He smirked, waiting for her to bite.

Hook, line and sinker.

"Well I thought you were _the king of pain_." She retorted sarcastically.

"Touché." He flipped through the magazine. "Heh, _Rick Springfield's back as Dr. Noah Drake on General Hospital_."

He looked up again and saw her sitting in her chair. She seemed tired.

"What—that was all? That's all I get? No more puns? _Oh_ did _Uncle Greg_ wear you out?"

She rubbed her neck and cringed when she found the sore spot.

"Can we, just for once—"

"Skip massive amounts of usual foreplay and do it on your desk? I'd love to but you know—the leg and—"

"No!" She glared at him. "Would you stop twisting my words and let me finish."

He motioned with his cane.

"Can I make you a deal?"

He frowned. "What kind of a deal?"

"You'll be free of clinic duty for the rest of the week if you tone down the sarcasm. That means no sexual innuendo, no bitter remarks or inappropriate sayings."

"That's all? I have to be _nice_?" He raised an eyebrow.

"That means that just for once you'll have to be nice to _everybody_."

"What _Foreman_, _Cameron_ and _Chase_?" He gave her a disgusted look.

"Them too."

"Oh come on, you gotta give me Chase. He's my main source."

"No. Take it or leave it."

He looked at her outstretched hand and heard the clock ticking in the background.

Okay. Think about it. Four glorious days with no clinic duty for four days of pretense. You can do it.

His hand shook hers. "Deal."

"Good. Now get back to work. You still have, "she looked down at her watch, "six hours of clinic duty for today. Use them wisely."

He stood up and flinched at the sudden pain. "Yes, Mother Superior. Shall I tell all the boys and girls to do their usual morning prayer?"

"Get out."

She pushed him outside and closed the door.

He popped a couple of more Vicodin and left in search of his favorite accomplice.


End file.
